It was near the beginning of my senior year of high school. I'd turned eighteen near the end of my junior year. (I'd started school a year late due to an illness which prevented me from making the deadline for registration, and suffered for that illness ever since.) I'd had a job working at a local pharmacy for almost two years, originally starting out doing janitorial-type work, and stocking shelves, but eventually working my way up to running a cash register. I was still expected to occasionally be the first one at the pharmacy to do some clean-up work: vacuuming, sweeping, and general tidying up before the business opened for the day. Since I was often the only person in the building for an hour or more on those mornings, it wasn't uncommon for me to occasionally swipe a candy bar, or some other snack as I worked, without paying for it. I was usually pretty good about paying for things, but during those hours I was alone in the store, I just didn't see the harm in what I did. I never took anything that was high value, and never stole anything from the pharmacist's shelves. But after a while, I guess I became complacent about hiding what I was doing. It wasn't like I was trying to get caught, but I suppose I started to feel like I was invulnerable from discovery. It was almost inevitable that I eventually did get caught. The owner of the pharmacy found a box of condoms in the pocket of my jacket as it hung in the employee's break area. He demanded to see my receipt, which of course I didn't have, and I was sacked on the spot.

I wasn't aware of how many items typically turned up missing, due to employee pilferage and actual shop-lifting, but he produced a list with all sorts of stuff on it. The list totaled several thousand dollar's worth of merchandise, for which he claimed I needed to provide restitution or he'd have me arrested and prosecuted. I was in a panic. I knew that the things I'd taken over the years I'd worked for him couldn't have added up to more than $100-$150, but he wanted to make me cough up money (which I didn't have) for every little thing he claimed was missing from the store's inventory. Frankly, I suspected he'd gone so far as to add things that he himself had "brought home."

I should point out that I was generally a pretty good kid. I got good grades, was active in the seasonal athletic programs (football in autumn, basketball in winter and track